In the Blink of an Eye
by Sirenn
Summary: You're probably going to hate me for this...
1. Chapter 1

**In the Blink of an Eye**

Summary: _You're probably going to hate me for this…_

Disclaimer: I do not own the newsies or any characters you recognize from the newsies, I do own characters that you don't recognize from the movie.

_Chapter 1_

Callie McElroy was not beautiful, in fact she was borderline difficult to look at. Her pale skin was broken by the uneven tones that were mixed into it. Her nose jutted out of the center of her face into a perfect triangle. Literally, the shape made when someone puts they're index finger between they're eyes and they're thumb beneath they're nostrils. Her elongated and thinned face did not help to distract the onlooker from the rather large distraction at the center. Crutchy had once referred to it as giving her the look of a rat, that didn't stop him from dating her. Her hair was blonde, and looked like it had been burned by the sun rather than kissed by it. Instead of silky strands that fell seductively down her back, her hair had the texture and color of straw. She often kept it braided to avoid flaunting the unattractive texture to the only people who mattered to her; the opposite sex. The only redeeming characteristics of her face were her eyes and lips. Luckily, she'd received bright green eyes, speckled with the only freckles on her entire body within them. The small brown spots rippled out from her pupil turning into the brilliant emerald that was impossible to miss. Her lips were on the thin side, but seductively shaped and colored to attract her targets with every word she spoke.

Her thin waist was pulled in tighter by the extra small, extra expensive corsets that her mother paid for. The curves were emphasized by her wide hips, which would have suggested a heavier frame. However, paired with that tiny waist they were a weapon that she knowingly used at every given opportunity. Unfortunately, the emphasis was distributed equally on her upper half because her well endowed bosom helped define that shrunken waist even further. If there was any confusion about the shape of her body, she cleared it up by completely ignoring the modesty that most of us aspired to protect. She wore clothes dangerously tight to her waist; they were custom made to show exactly what she wanted to without crossing the line to a prostitute's wardrobe. Money can make you beautiful even when you have little to work with. Though she adamantly denied it, it was obvious to anyone who'd seen her first thing in the morning that she wore make-up. Particularly rouge to camouflage the elongated shape of her face, and add stronger cheekbones to it. She tried too hard, was too obsessed with appearances, and too concerned with men. I couldn't help but envy her a little.

Everything was so easy for her, money gave her that power. We tolerated each other for different reasons; I reaped a lot of benefits from my friendship with her. There were times I felt dirty for my fake friendship with the girl, practically paid to remain her friend by her mother who knew exactly what her daughter was. As though reading my mind her mother would plan an extravagant outing that was impossible for me to turn down, and I was stuck with her for another short while. Years later I had become completely aware of all her scheming and pretend emotions. Before you start to feel bad for the girl, understand, she didn't like me either. She didn't really like anyone; she liked attention and a lot of it, that's all. She was so desperate for attention she did not care who she received it from. If it was considered socially unacceptable to maintain a relationship with me because my economic situation was not as profitable as hers, than the boys she spent her time with was social suicide. Because no one of proper upbringing could stand to be in her company for very long, I became her best friend, stuck with her because it enhanced my own economic situation. Even if she'd been a lovely girl whom the other socialites loved, her desire for attention led her to people they'd never consider associating with; newsies. That's right; one of Manhattan's nearly wealthy socialites went to the slums of both Manhattan and Brooklyn to spend time with the only males who would pay her the attention she desired.

Of course as her perfectly placed sidekick, I was forced to spend an equal amount of time with the newsies as she did. She brought me on her outings, sometimes only as an alibi for her mother, who certainly would not have approved of what she did with those newsies. I personally didn't understand why she wouldn't just accept money for her services if she was going to service them so regularly. She didn't see it that way. Despite that fact that she'd made her way through nearly every newsie residing in New York, because it had been one at a time these 'relationships' were perfectly acceptable. All the relationship consisted of was a trading of attention for sex, and then she moved on to a more popular newsie, working her way up the social ladder of the insignificant until she reached the top. Callie Mcelroy always needed to be with the best, it validated her existence.

"This is going to be awkward" I whined knowing that my comfort was none of her concern whatsoever.

"It'll be fine, Lia" She responded with the simple flick of her wrist, my problems were so trivial compared to whether or not Spot Conlon was ever going to say 'I love you.'. Of course everyone who wasn't Callie Mcelroy knew that no such thing was ever going to happen. Spot was one of the few newsies not impressed by her glamour and who saw her for exactly what she was; a cheap lay. He used her when there was nothing better around for him, and did not care any more for her than she cared for me. It was refreshing to see someone see through the façade, and was the only reason I respected Spot Conlon. We once had an entire conversation on the topic once while Callie was off crying on Mush's shoulder because of how Spot had mistreated her. We had a good laugh about it, I liked Spot but unfortunately I was rarely given the opportunity to talk to him. He was busy trying to find girls to lay anyway, that wasn't what I liked him for, he was simply one of the few newsies who I could have a conversation with, without having to fake sympathy at the unrequited 'love' they felt over Callie. It was sickening.

The walk was beginning to become unbearable in Callie's too-small-for-me shoes that were crushing my toes together so tightly I was starting to wonder whether I'd be able to separate them after. Not to mention the fact that the rain was starting to pick up, by the time I got there my hair was going to be stuck to my neck. I whined inwardly, rationalizing to myself that I really didn't care what the newsies thought anyway. I allowed my thoughts to predict the night ahead of me. I didn't even know who would be there, I assumed all of Manhattan since it was a 'party' at they're lodging house. Every night was a party the only reason we were making an appearance tonight was because Spot Conlon was. I wondered if the place would be filled with whores. It was always awkward to talk to even the boys who were my friends when their testosterone was perked up to that level. Especially Mush, once he was excited anything that moved was fair game and it was annoying trying to enlist the help of the others to avoid him all night.

Despite their faults, I couldn't help but like them. Even when I hated them, they were my friends, the only ones I had. Callie and I were stuck together because neither of us could do any better, and these same circumstances led to the newsies. It would be wrong to deny the fact that I enjoyed spending time with them, socially acceptable or not. It's just that I hated to admit it, especially to Callie who then used it justify the fact that she constantly left me alone to go off with her ever-changing beaus.

"Party can start now, I'm here" Callie called into the bunkroom as she ascended the stairs. Upon reaching the top she'd suddenly lost the ability to walk without swinging her hips dramatically from side to side. The room was surprisingly, nearly empty. There were only a handful of newsies in the bunkroom, sitting at the far corner of the room spread out over the bunks furthest from the staircase. I recognized Mush's curly hair even from across the room. He was spread out across a bunk that he claimed for himself, one leg hanging over the edge. His head supported by one arm folded under it.

On the bunk opposite from him was a boy I hadn't met before, his hair was shaggy and blonde, the color Callie wished she had. It flew around his head, as he adjusted the eye patch that covered one eye. The other was a brilliant cerulean only a shade duller than Spot's. With his one eye he was able to perfectly express the annoyance he was clearly feeling. His broad shoulders were pressed against the pole used to frame the bed. His legs hung over one side, pressing flat into the floor. A cigarette dangled from his lips, which he refused to use his hands to smoke. He was handing a cigarette to my favorite newsie, Crutchy.

Crutchy was sprawled out on the floor, his legs spread out in front of him, one at an obscure angle taking up as much room as he could. He leaned back on one arm bent at the elbow, his torso and other arm brought forward by his desire to obtain the cigarette. Crutchy was completely insane, he'd crippled his leg jumping from a moving horse and buggy to 'see if he could land on the horse', he couldn't. Crutchy would do anything so long as it made for a good story.

Jack was sitting behind mystery boy; his greasy hair fell into his face as he moved forward to welcome us. His left arm was wrapped around Sarah, whose hair was curtained lovingly over it. She leaned her head into his chest when he returned to his position next to her.

Skittery sat on the floor, separated from the rest by the crutch set down next to its owner. His slightly curled hair jumped joyfully as he nodded his welcome to us. He leaned his weight back on one hand when he was finished, waving in conjunction with the welcoming smile on his face.

"Where is everybody?" Callie asked looking disappointed that the group was so small tonight. Her annoyed expression disappeared when Spot Conlon emerged from the washroom carrying an armful of dark colored glass bottles. His crystalline eyes were unconnected with the rest of his boys; his smile was a menacing one.

"Vaudeville Theater" Jack answered not bothering to explain this statement.

"Yeah, Medda's giving a free show for the newsies tonight" Race continued where Jack had left room for elaboration.

"Why didn't you guys go?" Callie asked, trying not to make eye contact with Spot Conlon, whose gaze was not remotely directed toward her. She was pretending not to be interested in him.

"Kloppman went too" Race continued

"So that means we get to take out the stash of whiskey!" Crutchy finished, his voice had this habit of finishing a sentence in a much higher pitch voice than sounded natural when he was excited about something. That something was usually dangerous, illegal or just plain stupid.

"Hey, Amelia"

"Did you just call her Amelia" Callie called turning away from her group of fans. I rolled my eyes, two seconds of attention from one of her boys and she was jealous. "That's just weird, Mush".

"Yeah, that is really weird Mush, never say that again" I scolded with a wink knowing fully that he knew I hated to be called by my full name, it was the only reason he did it.

"Mush, don't call her that ever again." Callie echoed as though she was not only the first to say it, but that her orders were to be followed without question. "Don't worry Lia, he'll listen to me" she assured me, establishing her dominance over me while seemingly standing up for me.

"Um, okay, I guess" Mush responded, sarcastically implying that he 'guessed it was okay for her to tell him what to do' a phrase that he angrily normally added to the end of his sentences. This was his favorite response to just abut everything.

"Who said whiskey?" I asked eyeing the bottle, and causing uproar of laughter between the boys. Callie smiled and laughed her high pitch squeak of obnoxiousness along with them. I raised my eyebrows, slightly annoyed at the delay of me receiving my whiskey. I opened my eyes halfway to imply that this was unnecessary laughter since they all knew how much I liked my alcohol, especially around Callie.

"Lia, I love you" She added at the end of her impression of a pig's squeal, and I smiled in response when she handed me a bottle. I took a long swig of the strong liquor and barely made a face when I removed it from my lips, I'd become immune to the taste with the amount of time I spent drinking it.

Callie squeezed onto the bed with Mush, twirling her fingers around the straw strands at the end of her braid. She leaned against the wall at the head of the bed, facing the other newsies and ignoring Mush. The moment the whiskey kicked in I relaxed into a lulled sense of reality. That was my favorite feeling in the world. The tingling sensation in my arms when the whiskey finally hit. I leaned back and exhaled as if getting a neck massage. My anxiety was gone, I was myself again.

"So, what are we doing tonight guys?" Callie asked still twirling her hair between her fingers.

"You're looking at it" Spot replied, extending his arms him font of him.

"We're just going to sit in this room and drink whiskey?" She asked annoyed.

"That's what I'm doing, I don't really care whether you do or not" He answered, tormenting her.

"Lia, do you have a problem with this?" Spot asked changing his icy tone when addressing me.

"I'm good" I responded, taking another swig and sinking deeper into the relaxation.

"Lia's always good once you give her some alcohol" Skittery jumped in. I really didn't like him.

"Hey!" I started to protest before taking a good look at the bottle. "No, it's true" I finished taking another swig from the gluttonously.

"Really enjoying that bottle?" Eye-patch boy asked me. I thought that seemed like a pretty stupid question and so I shook my head while removing the bottle from my mouth.

"No, Patchy, I don't even like to drink" I responded sarcastically before returning the bottle to my lips.

"Patchy?" He reeled back offended. "The names Blink" He added pointing to his face.

"Blink?"

"Because he can't" Crutchy explained next to me. That was too much for me, I knew all these boys had ridiculous nicknames, but I found that hysterical. I couldn't help laughing, and repeating 'because he can't' through my cackles. If Callie squealed like a piglet, I cackled like on a witch on helium. At the sound I saw Blink and Crutchy exchange a look of sheer amusement.

"Best. Laugh. Ever" Race congratulated me through his own hysterics. Race could never keep a straight face when I got the giggles, just like I couldn't stop myself when Crutchy did something stupid.

"I've been told my laugh is very funny." Callie informed us angrily. I could barely keep in my laugh as she made a fool out of herself.

"It is" Mush responded slowly, as he, Crutchy and I exchanged looks of horrified embarrassment for her. He patted her on the head as he spoke, which caused a look of satisfied annoyance to cross her face. This sent her into her 'what am I your dog?' Routine and the two of them became lost in their own world of play-fighting.

"Where's Mary tonight, Skits?" I heard Race ask from behind me. I rolled my eyes knowing exactly what triad this was going to spark. Next to me Crutchy gave me a knowing smile, before mimicking my eye rolling to an extreme degree so that he looked like he was having a seizure.

"She's not 'interested' in anything other than friendship" I heard the bitter tone of Skittery's raspy voice behind me. He was gaining anger. "She said I reminded her of her brother. What the fuck is that? I always get screwed over with girls. You know, Race, you always see it. I can never get a girlfriend. I mean really what the fuck is wrong with me; I know I'm good looking, what's wrong with all of them."

Skittery annoyed me so much, he was one of those people whose self-delusion is so off that you just want to tell them exactly what is wrong with them to knock them down off their high horse. It was seriously impossible for me to even acknowledge Skittery as a good looking person, because his personality was so irritating it made him simply repulsive.

I turned toward Crutchy again shooting him my most annoyed look as I brought the bottle to my lips and allowed as much to spill down my throat as I could before the taste became too much at one time. Crutchy mouthed 'I'm bored', which sent a smile to my lips. When Crutchy got bored that meant entertainment was never too far off.

"Skittery don't worry you'll get a girl you just need to wait for the right one." Sarah's voice was wispy and soft. Sarah was nice. I mean that this was the only word to describe the girl. She was always proper, never drinking because ladies didn't drink 'spirits' as she called them, but it was perfectly alright with her that I drank more alcohol than some of the boys. It's not that there was anything about Sarah to dislike it's just that there was nothing there for me to like. She was polite, always having the politically correct response, always with heartfelt advice. She never got mad, she never cussed. You'd never catch her and Jack fighting, or kissing for that matter. It was as though she never let any of us in far enough to see her break her mask, or there just weren't any other elements to her personality. I couldn't help it; I found it personally amusing to shock her as much as possible.

"We could all go swimming" Crutchy started. It began.

"Where?" Callie asked rudely. "This isn't Brooklyn" She continued trying to lighten her demeanor.

"We could walk to Brooklyn" He responded excitedly. Only Crutchy would want to walk to Brooklyn after dark, for no reason.

"Just to go swimming?" Jack piped in, the voice of reason.

"Crutchy you could hurt yourself" Sarah chimed in, motherly always looking out for the well-being of others.

"Yeah, how you going to use your crutches in the water?" Blink piped in.

"Same way I do on land" Crutchy responded lifting his crutch off the ground and extending it far enough to whack Blink in the arm with it resulting in a resounding "The fuck?!" from the victim of the attack.

"We can't go swimming anyway, Crutch, it's raining" I said settling the matter.

"Lia" Spot drew out the two syllables of my name, implying the importance of his statement. He paused for dramatic effect, pronouncing the three words very slowly as if teaching a child. "Water is wet"

That sent me back into hysterics, only Spot Conlon could oversimplify something to such an extreme as to make me feel like a complete moron. That was part of his charm, I guess.

"Spot, come here" Callie purred, bending one knee and draping her arm over it. With her other hand she seductively placed the braid behind her back. Her eyes narrowed slightly targeting him.

"I'm sitting" His tone left no doubt that the conversation was meant to be over.

"Just come over here for a minute, Spot." Mush's eyes narrowed, and his brow furrowed side glancing his bedmate of the moment. "Please" She cooed, having nowhere near enough self-respect to prevent herself from acting desperate. She could not find enough dignity in her to relent her begging even after being ignored continuously. Finally, clearly out of irritation, Spot rose and stood near the bed Callie was sharing with Mush. She blinked up at him, satisfied in her own delusions that she could control Spot because of his love for her. She leaned forward slightly, her intention clear as she puckered her lips dramatically expecting a response. Spot's head reeled back horrified.

"I hope she knows I'd never treat her like that" Crutchy whispered in my ear. Crutchy never fully understood the idea of concealing one's emotions. At a loss of what to say I turned toward him with my most apologetic look and shrugged slightly to express my understanding. When Crutchy started talking like this it always made me feel uncomfortable, but that was just Crutchy, reckless with his body and emotions.

"You called me over here for a kiss?" Spot belittled her with his tone. Spot was never going to respond to her attempt at cuteness. Anyone with a half a brain would realize that. Callie looked more angry than hurt, it made sense to me. If he embarrassed her in front of his fellow newsies then she lost status. That could lead to her losing her safety nets for the days Spot found other toys, and that was probably Callie's worst fear. Spot had returned to his former seat and conversation before Callie could lean her head back against Mush's arm, which tightened around her protectively. She allowed it, leaning into him and embracing his possessiveness. That was good for me; it meant we weren't going to leave yet. I turned to Crutchy for entertainment; my request was delivered only through visual communication.

"Poker?" His suggestion was meant for me but the response came from the pirate behind me.

"I got a deck of cards" He offered looking around to see if anyone else was going to participate.

"Where'd you get a deck of cards?" Race asked accusingly.

"Same way you got the whiskey" He shot back, seemingly offended. Race chuckled nodding his head in agreement.

"What? You going to play, Race?" Blink asked in a friendly tone, trying to take back his previous curtness.

"Have you ever met me before?" Race asked his eyes narrowing in conjunction with his almost-serious sarcasm. Race believed that the only real form of gambling was to place bets on horses. It was based on good breeding, and the ability to assess a horse's assets. It didn't rely on sheer luck the way the games he looked down on did. Cards and craps were below him.

"I'll play" I chimed in, happy to have a new face to play with. Crutchy rolled his eyes next to me; I didn't even have to turn my head to be aware of it.

"Anyone else?" He asked aloud, when there was no response Blink moved onto the floor, joining Crutchy and I. He shuffled professionally, which I have to admit, was impressive. I shot Crutchy a look that clearly said to keep quiet, he raised his eyebrows in response, amused.

"The game is five card draw, three card change unless you have an ace which you then keep, one cent buy in, oh, and deuces wild" He rattled off as though trying to sell me something I didn't need.

"Deuces wild?" I affirmed.

"It means that any '2' card can be used as anything." He explained. Big shot, this was going to be fun. I drew my lips slowly into the shape of an "o" the understanding playing across my face. I surveyed the cards in my hand, smiling brightly as I did. When I looked up I met a look of satisfaction in the only eye there was to read. Obviously, he was thinking he was playing cards with a cripple and an easy-read. I couldn't look at Crutchy.

"Three" I demanded, bringing my face back into a neutral position, increasing the amusement in the blue eye before me.

"Sure" He responded, a smirk playing on his lips. Crutchy folded, and I had to keep my eyes on the ground. Maximum bet was five cents, unless it was a special occasion. There was no need to sleep on the streets when we were merely playing out of boredom. After seeing my excited smile, Blink must have assumed I had a good hand and folded in an attempt to save himself some money. I showed a pair of Queens.

At this point Blink must've been thinking I was a complete moron. Only a woman would get excited over one pair. I continued my game for awhile, alternating between happy and angry demeanor's, always exchanging cards three at a time. When I had a low hand I made a show of my excitement, on a better hand I'd fold. This phase was setting my opponent up. Crutchy folded every hand on the first round of betting. If anything he was going to expose me.

When I was confident this kid thought that I didn't know any good hand other than a pair, I smiled dramatically and traded only two cards. I have no idea what he was thinking, but he raised me three cents and I called. He must have had a good hand; it was so much more fun that way. My eye met his, daring him to raise me again. I had to get him to fold; it wouldn't do any good to show cards now. I raised, continuing until he broke a sweat. We were well passed five cents each, the pot had a decent amount of copper in it, neither one of us were calling on it.

I looked around realizing for the first time that Callie and Spot had disappeared. While this excused my good mood, it didn't explain why Jack, Sarah, Race and Skittery had their own circle surrounding us. Blink and I were clearly in the spotlight. I didn't realize how long we'd been one-upping each other. I didn't want to lose; this was the finale to my entire process. My guilt at taking his money was overridden by my refusal to be the first one to back down. Finally he looked away from me and surveyed the room. His one eyebrow furrowed as he slammed his cards down on the floor. I smiled at my victory, as I laid my cards down on the floor in front of the crowd surrounding us.

"Four, six, nine, five, king?" The eye turned murderous. "You have nothing!" Definitely murderous. The anger in his voice was a little much for a simple game of cards. If he really needed the money back that badly I'd give it back. It's not like I really wanted his stupid pennies.

"It's called bluffing" I explained, maybe my tone was a little too sarcastic, but it was too easy. Besides, I couldn't help mocking his anger, it was so uncalled for. I heard the snickering around me, and then it clicked.

"Blink you got beat by a girl!" Skittery was too simple-minded to do anything other than state the obvious.

"Girls should not be that good at poker" Jack said spitting in his hand, and extending it to me. I reciprocated the gesture, I'd known the newsies long enough to be aware of the meanings behind they're unhygienic acknowledgements of respect. I smiled; I wanted to brag. I ducked my head so my hair fell over my face, and shrugged my shoulders straightening my neck as if to say 'guess that's just me'.

"And you thought poker didn't take any skill, Race" Crutchy chimed in trying to divert the attention of the group.

"I was wrong" Race spoke quickly, raising one hand in the air, declaring his innocence.

"So you'll play poker now, Race?" I asked suggestively

"Not with you" My ego had grown to Spot Conlonesque proportions.

"So how's it feel to be beaten by a girl" I teased rocking to the side as Race pushed me playfully, saying "A drink girl, no less"

"Why don't you just shut the fuck up, Race" Blink yelled swatting at the pile and sending the small copper coins rolling across the dust covered floorboards.

"Hey, here you can have the money back" I said absently pushing about half the remaining pile toward Blink. Apparently that was the wrong thing to say.

"You can shut the fuck up too. Who let this girl in here?" He yelled again slamming his palms into the ground beneath him to push himself off the ground. He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. As he stalked out of the room he emitted a cloud of smoke and profanity that surrounded him as his hard footsteps could be heard pounding on the staircase.

"What's his problem?" I asked taking my last swig of the whiskey bottle before I heard the angry succession of squeals that was going to be my cue to leave. I leaned in toward Crutchy who already had his hand extended. One by one we reduced our fingers pausing momentarily between our countdowns. When we reached fists I lightly punched him with mine, and he wrapped me in a hug saying goodbye.

"You're leaving?" Jack asked confused.

As if waiting for the perfect time, Callie appeared at the bottom of the staircase that led up to the private room she had just occupied. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, refusing to move with her when she walked. The disheveled look was capped by the loss of control of her emotions. She looked near tears, which meant I wasn't going to get another minute.

"Lia, we need to go" Her voice cracked poignantly, it was the kind of thing that used to evoke pity in me.

"Where's Mush?" She asked her voice straining the same way. That was Callie, rejected by one and searching for another. Sarah looked like she wanted to help her; she was one person who'd never understand.

"I don't know. Are you okay?" I asked my fake sympathy undetected.

"Never mind, I have to leave are you coming?" She asked vulnerably, as if I really had a choice. I rose from my spot on the floor wiggling my fingers behind me as I rudely walked out on my friends in tow of Callie. As I passed through the front door, consoling my 'best friend' I saw Blink throw his cigarette on the ground before entering his home and slamming the door behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

**In the Blink of an Eye**

Summary: _You're probably going to hate me for this…_

Disclaimer: I do not own the newsies or any characters you recognize from the newsies, I do own characters that you don't recognize from the movie.

_Chapter 2_

"For God's sake Lia, suck in!" with the strain in Callie's voice you would have thought she was pulling it tighter herself. She was on the opposite side of the room gazing at herself in the full length mirror on her wall. I took a deep breath in and held onto the bedpost as tightly as I could, trying to make my stomach muscles tighter. I really hated this part, being alone with Callie made me absolutely sick. I closed my eyes trying to block out the squeaky voice as she prattled on about her "relationship" with Spot.

Her cluelessness aggravated me. I could never understand why it is that she has no sense of embarrassment or dignity when it comes to getting what she wants. Once she argued with Spot for about half an hour refusing to give into his needs until he told her he loved her. I guess he held out as long as he could before he decided it'd be worth it to give in, even if he didn't mean it. She then pranced around downstairs enlightening all of us to the fact that Spot had told her he loved her and that they were engaged now, as if we didn't hear the entire thing through the paper thin walls of the lodging house. If she wasn't embarrassed I was embarrassed for her.

Callie's mother entered her room followed by two of their servants carrying parcels and packages full of new clothing. Elaborate wrappings stuffed full of soft paper and fabric gave way to the beautiful colors and fabrics underneath. Finally laced, I stood running my fingers over the materials silk, cotton and wool blends, flannel, but my favorite was the velvet. I wished stronger than anything else that I could have the money to afford such fine things. I couldn't understand what made Callie deserve them more than I did. Then again, there was no valid reason for Callie to wear such elaborate clothing. She would wear evening gowns fit for a ball to the unclean lodging houses of Manhattan and Brooklyn and remove them within an hour. I suppose that's why all the newsies preferred Callie despite her horrible personality; she did trot around in silk while I wore my cotton walking skirt and jacket.

"I can't stand to watch you looking like a puppy dog when I buy clothes for my daughter. This one's for you". It wasn't the first time she'd bought me something, she knew who her daughter was. I don't think she could ever figure out just how I could stand Callie for as much time as I did. What else was I going to do though? If it weren't for Callie and the newsies I would have absolutely no social life, not that this would be considered proper socializing, but pariahs like me can't expect to do any better. My father had left my mother with no money to buy me a respectable place in the world. Upon his departure he'd also ensured that I'd never be accepted into any dignified society by leaving my mother pregnant and without a wedding ring. It was quite the scandal, growing up my mother had been engaged to the son of a senator, she herself being the daughter of a wealthy business owner. My father was not her betrothed, and when news of her condition got out, her father did the only thing he could do, disown her. She works as a seamstress to keep us in our apartment, which is nothing compared to the McElroy's brownstone.

Callie was cast out of society not for her lack of money, but for her behavior. The biggest scandal to strike Manhattan's elite in the summer of 1898 was when the younger sister to Callie's beau caught them alone, in his room, in various states of undress. Rather then keep this information to herself she sang like a canary to the parents of anyone who would listen. Catty as she was, she succeeded for no one could allow their sons to marry such a fast and improper wife. Without any suitable prospects for a husband she fell from her place in high society right down the newsboys lodging house. It has been my belief for some time now that Callie would have been useless as a wife anyway because she cannot bear children. All I can say is that she has certainly put herself in the position to become pregnant many times and at a certain point her luck would have run out She must know it too because she has no concerns about sleeping her way through the newsies of New York.

"Lia, please" That whine was so high-pitched you would've thought it was a tea kettle whistling "You have to let us use your house" As if it were my mission in life to please her.

"No" I did not even give a hint of a smile. I didn't want her to think there was any chance of me cracking.

"Please, I need to see Spot tonight" She was so desperate for attention she didn't mind clinging onto a boy who was completely uninterested. I would rather die than make such a fool out of myself. Callie, however, was not going to let a little thing like dignity get in the way of what she wanted.

"So go and see him" I suggested seriously. It wasn't beneath my companion to arrive unannounced to the lodging house assuming Spot would be happy to see her. She only wanted to pretend that she valued her integrity more than that, and naturally I was forced to play along.

"I can go if I'm inviting them to your house" I can only assume that the smile she gave me was meant to be convincing and sweet. Her teeth looked like bits of corn, and with the straw-like quality of her hair I had to actively hold back a giggle when I was immediately reminded of a scarecrow.

"But they're not coming to my house. I am not cleaning up after a bunch of boys I don't even want to see." It wasn't entirely true; I did enjoy the newsies company more than I would like to admit. It's not that I'm so far above them socially that I'm embarrassed to say they are entertaining human beings, it's just that I'd hate to give Callie the satisfaction of thinking that I enjoy being her alibi.

"I'll clean up after them. I promise. Please Lia; come on, your mom's not going to be home until at least midnight. We've got the house to ourselves all night." She meant I had the house to myself, but nothing really belonged to me as long as I was engaged in this friendship. My possessions as well as my time, emotions and self were all at Callie's disposal whenever she desired to use them. She made sure of this by paying for them constantly.

"Callie…" There were so many things I wanted to say. I wanted to be alone. I didn't want to listen to her coo all over Spot Conlon while he ignored her. I didn't want a group of unwashed boys making themselves comfortable in my house. She didn't care about any of this, and interrupted me before I could provide even one decent excuse.

"Lia, please" It sounded like an impression of a pig's squeal. "I'll come over early and help you get ready. We'll wear our new dresses tonight. It'll be fun. I promise" She turned herself back to pile of new clothing she had just purchased, scouring the bed for something to wear.

"Fine" It may have seemed like I had the power to say no and I'd simply changed my mind, but really I never had an opinion that mattered in the first place. She thanked me a hundred times, pretending that I'd given her permission. She thought it kept me happy to pretend I was actually in charge of my own decisions. I accepted my fate, looked forward to my alcohol, and prayed I would enjoy myself.

Callie really did get to my house early. I'd had a momentary lapse in judgment and believed that she was keeping her promise to help me dress. That notion only lasted until I saw the dress that she changed into. Cut far too low to be considered modest, I suspected she'd cut the neckline herself. It clung to her, the silk wrapped itself around her perfect S shaped body, and she admired her own form in the mirror. I was scandalized when she opened the bottle of rouge, and refused to allow her to smear that paint on my face. Her face was heavily painted; this was fairly common for Callie, but not usually under my own roof. She looked as though she were ready for a long night of work in a theater. Her mother would have locked her in the house if she'd suspected her daughter was roaming around New York City with a band of newsies dressed as a showgirl. My mother already disapproved of Callie; I couldn't imagine the guilt she'd lay on me for associating with such trash.

My "house" was a simple five room apartment. Entering through the front door one would find himself in my kitchen, facing a sink filled with dishes and no hot meal waiting on the stove. My mother did not have time for housekeeping after the twelve hour days she worked to pay the rent. Housekeeping was left to me, and I was less than dedicated to it. The three bedrooms were behind the kitchen all in a row, and a person had to walk through all three before reaching the living area. Furniture was scarce throughout the apartment, and the floor was decorated with unfinished sewing.

The only expensive thing I owned was given to me by a person I could not stand. It was my favorite piece of furniture and it hung in my room, next to my bed, my full length mirror. Callie had brought it over the first time she'd used my house to change into inappropriate clothing. When she finally pried herself away from it, I stepped in to examine myself for a moment. My plain brown hair fell around my shoulders, pin straight and unstyled. I longed for the hot rollers, and ornaments that turned Callie's hair into something to be noticed. I comforted myself with the thought that my hair did not resemble hay upon sight or touch.

"Who's coming tonight?" I asked, preceding my question with a sharp intake of breath. I arched my back, and did not release the air until I had successfully seen what I would look like in a tighter corset. Callie's petticoats rustled seductively as she stood next to me in the mirror, impatiently inching me out of the reflection so she could gaze at herself without distraction.

"Skittery, Mush, Crutchy, Blink, Race, and of course, Spot" She responded showing her fangs at the mention of the last name. I longed for the feel of whiskey down my throat, even as it burned through my skin it was less irritating then the girl before me.

"Blink?" I exclaimed, more astonished at Callie's lack of concern for anyone other than herself than I should have been. "I don't want that kid in my house!"

"Why not?" She furrowed her eyebrows together, her facial expression accusing me of being the drama queen. I wanted to tell her that she'd missed the entire scene because she'd been too busy allowing Spot to use her like a prostitute.

"He hates me. He went crazy when I beat him at poker. It was ridiculous." I did not find it amusing to entertain boys who had been known to scream in my face on any occasion.

"Lia, when will you learn that if you want boys to like you, you have to let them win at things like poker" She smiled at me as though she were giving me the secret to happiness. I refrained from telling her that if losing a game of poker meant I'd have some dirt-covered newsie slobbering all over me like a Great Dane, I'd learn to cheat.

"I'll never be as good with boys as you are, Callie" This was because I wasn't willing to do anything necessary to obtain their attention. I conveniently left that out, and Callie was so thrilled with my praise I thought she was going to buy me a new corset. She became very attentive, declared us sisters at heart, and tried to give me a bit of encouragement.

"Don't worry, Lia, everything will be fine. I'm sure he won't even mention the poker game. It'll be like it never happened" She released a smile that was actually meant to calm my nerves. Unfortunately, only one thing had the ability to relax me, and it was not Callie's misshapen teeth.

"At least they'll be bringing whiskey" I responded, optimistically. They knew me well enough not to enter my home without providing me with some sort of alcohol.

* * *

"She only beat me one hand" Blink declared despite the fact that no one had brought the conversation around to this topic. He spread himself out over the foot of my bed. Crutchy, who had taken to lying exactly where I sleep, began poking him with his crutch for taking up his leg room.

"She was setting you up the entire time for it" Crutchy argued back, laying the crutch on the bed next to him so that he could reach the bottle from the floor and take a swig.

"She still only won one game" Our grudge-holding, one-eyed companion repeated, lifting himself onto one elbow.

"That's the whole point, Blink" I defended myself half-heartedly. I took the bottle Crutchy passed me and let as much fall down my throat as possible to quiet my nerves. I was uncomfortable that we had made my bedroom headquarters for the night. I was sitting next to the bed, my knees folded into my chest and my arms resting atop my knees comfortably. I continued to adjust the bottom of my dress to ensure my ankles were constantly covered. The sound of rustling petticoats beneath the crimson silk was worth every minute I'd had to endure Callie's obnoxious whine.

"You're all high fiving her, when she lost hands before that" Blink cast the blame to his newsie companions, in his broken, drunken speech.

"Right, but, she did that to make you think she couldn't play" Race tried to explain to his dim-witted fellow newsie. He shot me a wink where he was sprawled out across the room. I tipped the bottle toward him in acknowledgment before my next swig.

"She's not good, she only won one hand" This very simple boy obviously lacked the intelligence needed to understand that no matter how many times he repeated himself, it would not change what happened.

"But that hand had a huge pot, she was making you feel secure enough to put that much money up, and then took it from you." Race explained again, chewing at the end of his cigarette. "It really is genius" he praised me.

"Thank you, Race" I put the emphasis on his name to express that at least some people respected me. Race was the first of the newsies to date Callie. It is my opinion that he would have proposed to her, had she not cheated on him with Crutchy, when he failed to arrive at a party in Brooklyn due to a nasty head cold. His only option was to rest during the party so he would be well enough to earn money the next day. Callie could not comprehend this choice of selling newspapers over spending time with her. Race was the only one who held the slightest bit of dignity. Following Callie's display of faithfulness, he accepted her apology, but not in the form of resuming their relationship. Although, I believed he was half in love with her still, he would never again allow her the opportunity of hurting him. That I could respect.

"It was only one hand" Blondie murmured under his breath, attempting to get the last word, even if no one else heard him. Because he was angled behind me, I could hear his mumbling and my pride wouldn't let it go. It was nice to have the newsies adoration placed on myself for once rather than Callie. The movement in my peripheral vision made me turn my head. Crutchy shook his head at me slowly from my bed. He may have been trying to warn me to let it go, however, I chose to chalk it up to a spasm and ignore it.

"Then why'd you get so mad, Blink" I challenged raising a single eyebrow at him, daring him to deny it.

"Yeah, you got pissed, Blink" Skittery inserted. I really didn't know what he was actually doing here. His almond eyes danced excitedly at including himself. I rolled my eyes, and received a soft nudge from Crutchy's crutch. Crutchy didn't have the looks that Jack or Spot did; it wasn't as easy for him to gain the affections of the opposite sex. Maybe that was why I got along with him the best, he was without the cockiness that knowing ones own attractiveness causes. His personality made him the most entertaining person any of us had ever met. Skittery was the exact opposite of Crutchy and I couldn't help noticing it. Putting my personal prejudices aside, Skittery was nice to look at before he opened his mouth. His jaw line was less chiseled than Jack's or Spot's giving him a boyish look that was offset by his height and build.

"Aren't there any girls coming?" Skittery changed the subject, his overly focused mind refused to be away from its obsession for long. In the sense of girls Skittery was the opposite of Spot. He was looking for a girlfriend who he could turn into a wife. I had no idea what he wanted to do with a wife when he was still living at the lodging house, but he was determined to prove that someone wanted to be with him forever.

"Lia and Callie are here" Blink responded, probably just looking for something to say, but sparking my anger. I angled my head so that he could see the icy glare I sent him threatening him not to throw me into Skittery's consideration. He shrugged at me innocently.

"I'm not going to marry Skittery" I announced to the room, just in case there was any confusion about it. I did hope that Skittery would find himself a girl quickly. Then we might be lucky enough for him to spend every free moment with her, and be absent from these gatherings, just as Jack and Sarah were. I would miss Skittery much less then I missed the two of them. I preferred even Sarah's boring nature to Skittery's annoying one.

"And Callie's only interested in Spot" Skittery whined, alluding to the fact that Callie and Spot were engaged in the spare bedroom. "Although" he continued his demeanor shifting to a more optimistic one, and I knew what was coming "We all know who she wanted to be with first."

The smile on Skittery's face made me want to slap Callie for her mistake. She had once told him that the first time they'd met she'd thought him the handsomest of the newsies, and until meeting Race, she'd decided on dating Skittery. Mush, although remaining absorbed in his personal bottle of whiskey, looked incredulously at Skittery. It wasn't that Mush hadn't heard this story as often as Skittery opted to tell it, but he considered himself Callie's favorite, and believed that being her closest friend would eventually lead him to the position of husband. These boys were sincerely diluted and I missed Spot's presence because he was free from Callie's spell.

"Yeah, but we know who she ended up with instead" Race could not allow the opportunity to injure Skittery's pride pass, and I smiled at him for the entertainment. Skittery looked as though he were about to fly into one of his rages in which he claims "everyone's against me. I have no real friends" and storms out like a five-year old child might, when my least favorite piped in.

"Everyone" Blink stated seriously, and I couldn't help but burst into hysterics over it. He had climbed his way into my good graces with that remark. Anyone who could even slightly see through Callie's veneer was an angel in my opinion.

"Don't talk about her like that" Crutchy said, not in an intimidating way, but softly as though it was a simply unnecessary thing to do. Mush looked as though her were ready to take the stereotypical male action against someone who insulted his girl, but a wave of Crutchy's hand sent him back to his bottle. The softness in Crutchy's voice unnerved us all; it was never anyone's intention to hurt Crutchy. I looked up at him silently apologizing for my laughter, my eyes begging him not to relay the incident to Callie. I liked to keep the dramatics in my life to a minimum.

Spot emerged from the bedroom, buttoning his shirt followed by the sound of a high pitch voice begging him to return. He sat down on the floor next to me, and offered my some of his whiskey. I heard the faint sound of sobbing from the room behind us and rolled my eyes without attracting attention from any of her loyal followers. I locked eyes with Mush, and was silently ecstatic at his volunteering to handle the situation.

"I need some fucking air. You guys got a fire escape?" Spot asked leaving his bottle on the floor between us. I grunted, annoyed at having to move from my position, but not about to let Spot roam about my home un-chaperoned. I grabbed his bottle from the floor, refusing to be without my precious alcohol for even a moment. I led him through my mother's room uncomfortably, and into the disheveled living area that I had too much whiskey running through my veins to be embarrassed of. I pulled on the window, but predictably enough it didn't budge.

"The window sticks" I explained taking a swig from my bottle, enjoying every moment I didn't need to be catering to Callie's over sensitive emotions. With a smirk plastered across his face he lifted the window with one hand, enough for both of us to slip through comfortably. As if my window knew who Spot Conlon was and refused to oppose his will. I climbed through the window first, the cool night air feeling heavenly on my bare arms and chest. The downside to wearing a dress originally bought for Callie was the constant feeling of exposure. I knew I didn't have long before I was missed, but it was so intoxicating being able to converse with someone about a topic not related to my best friend. Spot began telling me about what it was to be a leader of the newsies, and although this topic was a manifestation of his self-centeredness I didn't mind so long as he wasn't Callie.

"You don't actually hit your own newsies?" I was astonished. I could not imagine Jack hitting anyone let alone one of his own newsies, like Mush. Weren't they all supposed to be good friends?

"If one of them gets out of line I do" He justified his brutal behavior to himself, but I was unconvinced.

"You're supposed to fight other people not your own followers" I argued convinced that I was right. On the contrary I couldn't imagine Spot passing up an opportunity to show off his fighting ability on anyone, even his own newsies.

"I do what I have to" he responded, a variation on his overused catch-phrase "I do what I want". I raised my eyebrow mocking his dramatics and continued to drink my whiskey in peace. He had used the exact same line when I'd questioned his honesty because he'd told me he'd murdered before to keep order between boroughs of the newsies. I could never be sure whether Spot was telling the truth or trying to inflate his own reputation by beginning his own rumors.

"You should really go back in there and talk to Callie. I think she's crying" I told him, knowing that he would not care, but loving to hear him express it.

"Let her cry. I'm done with her" He told me this constantly and yet, somehow, he always ended up alone with her behind a locked door. I had ceased believing this phrase no matter how much he insisted it was true.

"I bet that'll last until tomorrow" I would have wagered a life's supply of alcohol that it would happen. He must've known I was right, I had been right in every other instance that this conversation had taken place.

"You think so?"

"I do"

"You know what I think?" He leaned closer to me, and it wasn't until I raise the bottle of whiskey to my lips that he put a bit of distance between us. I raised an eyebrow impelling him to answer his own question.

"I think you want me to kiss you" He told me this with a perfectly straight face, and I later regretted scoffing into my bottle of whiskey, because it could be seen as rude.

"I think not" It was an immediate response, not meant to be harsh. This was the exact reason that I despised boys. I was not interchangeable with Callie McElroy as playthings they could choose between. I was convinced that if I lacked the morals Callie did I would be a better choice because I was clearly less annoying and demanding then my companion. However, I could be that way because these boys were nothing more to me than friends. An interest in me would not result in the same benefits that an interest in Callie would result in. To be frank, if the boys wanted sex they'd have to deal with Callie's annoying qualities because they would get nothing of the kind from me.

"Why not?" He asked me, the amount of liquor in my own veins had prevented me from smelling the intensity of it on his breath.

"You were just in my spare bedroom with my best friend!" I was convinced that this was the most ridiculous conversation I'd ever participated in. I did like Spot because he was sarcastic and not in love with Callie, but this was slowly bringing him to the bottom of my list.

"But I like talking to you more than I like talking to Callie" I wondered how drunk he was at this point, and if he would even remember saying this tomorrow. Spot was famous in our group for needing his antics to be told to him the next morning, and laughing obnoxiously at the ridiculous things he'd said and done. He never was embarrassed by his actions, merely claiming that he did what he wanted to.

"You like being alone with Callie more than you like talking to me" I said this as delicately as I could, and he laughed which put me back at ease.

"That's true" He conceded and I was relieved to know that we could cease this conversation, and it would never be repeated to Callie. I couldn't help but bask in the knowledge that Callie's "fiancé" had just propositioned me. It was addicting to be called superior to Callie in any light; I almost wished that she could have heard it just to watch her vanity dim a bit.

When we finally returned to my bedroom I was ushered out immediately by a distraught Mush. He grabbed my arm and pushed me into my mother's bedroom before he began accusing me of Callie's sins.

"What were doing alone on the fire escape with Spot?" He asked me, his voice serious and angry. His dark eyes were overflowing with protectiveness for Callie, and that much emotion toward someone who paid him so little attention was disgusting.

"Talking and drinking" I told him, waving my bottle in his face so he could see what my main priority of the night was. "What do you think" I was angry at the accusation, not because it inflected that I would hurt Callie, but because it put on the same moral level as her.

"Well, it looks fucking bad to have you out there by yourself with him" He screamed in my face, and I prayed Callie couldn't hear this argument. Mush had a habit, despite his soft demeanor, to fly into a rage when drinking at the slightest provocation. It made him almost unbearable when he started one of these fits and despite how I wanted to yell back, I knew from experience it would only make it worse.

"Stop yelling at me" I instructed him as firmly as I could without resorting to yelling back into his face. I sniffed, deeply taking breath into my body, and in his drunken state he mistook this for a sob. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and held me tightly against his chest.

"I'm sorry, Lia. I didn't mean to make you cry" I wasn't about to refute this so I repeated the sound and whined about how it hurt me for him to think I could ever disrespect Callie or myself by being inappropriate with Spot. He stroked my hair like a puppy, and I allowed it because it was much more pleasant than the yelling had been.

"I know you wouldn't, Lia. I'm sorry. You know how I get about Callie." He continued these apologies in slow, slurred speech until I finally consented to forgive him, so long as he promised not to relate this incident to Callie. I hadn't don't anything wrong, and didn't deserve an argument with my friend over something Mush had invented in his own head. Finally, I was able to return to my seat on the floor, and sip a bottle of whiskey in peace.

"Come on out, Callie" Spot called through the locked door on the opposite side of my room, leading to the spare bedroom. Crutchy nudged me again with his crutch drawing my attention to the entertainment of an argument between our friends. I smiled at him, knowing that he was secretly hoping this fight would end the "relationship" for good, and give him an opportunity to win her for himself.

"Why should I?" She called back to him, her voice once again making me wish I could detach the ears from my body so I would never be forced to hear it again.

"I want to give you a kiss" He had the ability to inject sincerity into his voice that made him both seductive and irresistible. I could feel her smile on the other side of the door, and as it opened slowly. He turned and winked at me, indicating with this gesture that his line was far from honesty. I could honestly say I was happy when they kissed and reconciled, it meant that I could continue sipping my whiskey.

Callie looked as though the words that had come out of his mouth were "will you marry me", and proceeded to be perfectly charming for the remainder of the night, for the benefit of the boys, of course. Her high pitched laughter, and teasing made me sick, and I chimed in with rude sarcasm whenever I could get away with it. Unfortunately for me Crutchy was absolutely tame at my apartment. This was a major disappointment because he was my main source of entertainment for the night. Through the pointless drama and random boringness of the night, I could remember one thing of significance. That Kid Blink had been able to judge Callie as I did, and I was impressed enough with this ability to lift my prejudice against him, and decided that he would no longer be labeled as my least favorite


End file.
